


A Night to Remember

by greygerbil



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 16:42:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14675196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greygerbil/pseuds/greygerbil
Summary: The day before his future fiancé Phichit Chulanont arrives, King Yuuri dresses up as a commoner in the hopes of forgetting about his concerns and fears of the future for an evening by gaining a few new experiences. In town, he meets a young cloth merchant who seems to just want to enjoy himself, but may be distracting himself from his own problems, too.





	A Night to Remember

**Author's Note:**

> Written for YoI Royalty Week, Day 4: Freedom: Who would we be, if we were not who we are? (FREE DAY)

Yuuri could see Hasetsu Castle when he looked over his shoulder. He had been away from it before, obviously, at the other end of the country, on the sea, and, of course, down here in the streets where it became a backdrop for the busy port town over which it towered. When he used to see the royal castle then, though, hadn’t it looked much less imposing? Maybe it was because the blood red sinking sun was right behind its sloping roofs now, casting it in stark shadows that made even the golden shachihoko statue on top look menacing.

No, Yuuri thought, shaking his head as he turned back to the tavern he was standing in front of. It was just his bad conscience.

For a moment, Yuuri considered simply going back. He felt so childish, suddenly. He was basically playing dress-up in his oldest sandals that he usually wore only when tending to the horses, and a washed-out, grey cotton kimono he had taken from the servants’ rooms. Running away from his problems like this wasn’t the solution – as if spending an evening in anonymity would change the fact that tomorrow, he would have his future husband delivered to his doorstep.

It wasn’t that Yuuri was opposed to the idea of marriage, or even this specific man. Phichit Chulanont sounded like a perfectly kind person, although he supposed every future husband would be presented like that by the interested parties. Still, the Katsukis’ envoy Minami hadn’t told any stories of warmongering, indecent behaviour, or even unfriendliness when returned to enthuse about his time at the court in the Jewel City.

And still… Yuuri was on edge. Even if Phichit was every inch the perfect husband, the question then became, would he like Yuuri? Because Yuuri could say for a fact that he wasn’t, and somehow, tomorrow, he was going to have to convince a person that leaving his family, his homeland, and his life behind to join Yuuri had been a good idea. Yuuri had been passed on the role of heir by his older sister, who had never had much interest in ruling, and every day he still wondered if _he_ was suited for it any more than she thought she was. So far, no civil wars, revolts or massive civic unrest had happened since he had climbed on the throne, but who knew what was down the road for him? What if Phichit thought he was a bad king? What if he simply didn’t like Yuuri as a person?

Maybe he should go home and study the steps of the ritual greeting and following meal once more. He had a feeling he’d be spilling tea over _somebody_ tomorrow. No wonder he had never done this before. Enjoying his freedom was not easy with so many thoughts in the back of his head.

“Are you going in, friend?”

Yuuri jumped and turned around. Behind him stood a lithe young man who threw him a sunny smile. He had tan skin, wild dark hair cut so that it hung just down to the tip of his ears and over his eyes, which were grey and warm, like storm clouds in the summer. He was dressed in a long hemp shirt and frayed trousers, and his bare feet were covered in dust.

Belatedly, Yuuri realised he was blocking the door to the tavern.

“Er... yes. Yes, I’m going,” Yuuri stammered.

Before he had opened his mouth, Yuuri hadn’t actually known what he would say, but – maybe this was right, after all. It’d be a goodbye, the last chance to be irresponsible. From tomorrow on, he couldn’t just be a young king still finding his legs, he would have to be a ruler worthy of a prince’s affections.

His stomach was twisting into knots at the thought.

“Alright,” the stranger said. “Let’s go, then!”

As he brushed aside the curtain, the music Yuuri had heard only distantly while lost in thought grew louder. A man was playing a jaunty tune on a bamboo flute and a few couples had made room for themselves to dance or sway to his music, according to their level of inebriation, Yuuri imagined. It took some self-control not to stop and simply stand in the way again. Obviously he’d seen taverns from inside before when travelling with the army, but there was a whole different atmosphere now. A royal heir on the warpath flanked by high-ranking generals who was taking his right for shelter was very different from just another citizen who caught barely more than a few stray glances. Yuuri marvelled at the smallest things: the collection of dusty, unlabelled bottles lining the wall behind the bartender, the men playing shogi with warped, unreadable pieces in a corner, the carefree dancers hitching up the hems of their kimonos under their belts so it wouldn’t get in the way of their feet as they twirled. It was all so reassuringly normal – standing here he could almost believe his life wouldn’t be turned on its head tomorrow.

“Great, I was hoping to find music tonight. I’ve been stuck sitting on a ship for days.”

Yuuri turned back to the man who had ushered him in.

“You’re not from here?”

He did have an accent, though his Japanese sounded fluent enough. The young man nodded his head.

“I’m a cloth merchant from the Jewel City. Now that Prince Phichit is coming, my boss thought there might be an inroad for business here.”

“Ah... yeah,” Yuuri said, swallowing. Gods, it seemed even as he tried to flee, his fate was following. He probably deserved that. “Well... hopefully Prince Phichit likes it here with King Yuuri. That could be good for, uh, your business. If more of your people came.”

Obviously his trepidation was showing for the merchant cocked his head at him.

“Is there any doubt that he’d like King Yuuri?” he asked.

“No. I don’t think so.” Yuuri gave an uneasy laugh. “But what do I know of kings, anyway?”

Sometimes it felt like it really wasn’t enough.

The merchant laughed.

“You’re right. Let’s let them be highborns and have fun. Are you meeting anyone?”

“No...”

“Perfect, then I don’t have to spend the evening alone.” The merchant glanced at the barkeeper. “What does one drink around here? Rice wine?”

“Yes,” Yuuri said, without knowing. It seemed a safe bet they’d have sake, but he didn’t know if it would be any good.

“I’ll order some!”

With that, the merchant took off. Yuuri was rather happy he didn’t have to talk to the barkeeper himself – not that he was likely to recognise him, of course. Maybe he had seen his face before, but Yuuri hoped the fact that there was absolutely no reason for the prince to be in a place like this would work like a second disguise draped over his old clothes. Still, it was better to be safe.

The merchant returned with two small bowls, one of which he handed to Yuuri.

“To your health.”

“And yours,” Yuuri replied, smiling slightly.

He swallowed. The alcohol stung on his tongue and felt like it might burn a hole in his throat on the way to his stomach, but he bravely choked it all down.

“ _Wow_. Pretty sharp.”

The merchant coughed.

“Er... you get used to it,” Yuuri muttered. He had to play his role up a little bit or risk looking as fatally out of place as he was. “What’s your name?”

“Mongkut,” the stranger said, still clearing his throat. “And you?”

“Ah, uhm...” Yuuri cursed himself. He should have thought of that before running outside. He just hadn’t expected to actually talk to someone. He’d thought he’d just sit and observe and enjoy being invisible for a while, but this guy had sort of pulled him in with his easy smile and welcoming attitude. “Just call me Takeshi.”

In his head, he apologised to his old friend from the castle guard for borrowing his name. It was the first thing that had come to mind.

“Hello, Takeshi. Do you want to dance?”

“Dance?” Yuuri replied, dumbly.

“Yes, dance! The evening is still young, after all. You can’t be tired yet.”

The man held out his hand and Yuuri stared at it. Was that allowed? Well, he wasn’t just married yet, though even thinking that felt callous. And yet, no one had ever offered to dance with him like this. Dancing at Hasetsu court followed strict rules of protocol and did not include bouncing around the room like the other couples did here, or just walking up to someone to ask them on the dancefloor, least of all the king. He felt guilty as he carefully placed his hand in the other man’s, but his heart stumbled in excitement.

“I’m not a good dancer,” Yuuri warned.

It wasn’t totally true. He had learned traditional dances from Minako, one of his tutors, but he doubted that would do him much good here.

“I don’t think anyone here is, not after all the sake.”

Mongkut linked their arms.

To his surprise, it wasn’t very difficult to fit in. Yuuri did have some notion of how to move to music, and even if he hadn’t – no one cared. Mongkut was all but jumping with the energy of one who had been cooped up too long. While Yuuri hadn’t been stowed away in a ship cabin, he found that his own movements grew more energetic after a while, too. No one was looking at him or correcting his posture or worried that he’d step on anyone’s toes. He wasn’t performing for anyone, he was just dancing with a handsome man at his side, who cheered when Yuuri did an audacious twirl on his toes, and hung on to his arm to pull him along into the next wild steps.

He couldn’t say how long they danced, but most of the couples they had started out with had given up and been replaced by others by the time Mongkut stopped.

“It feels like I could dance all night,” he said. “But I want to see some of Hasetsu before there’s no more light.”

That made sense, if Mongkut had only just arrived. Still, Yuuri was loathe to give up on his new acquaintance. He already knew he wouldn’t know how to make anyone else in this tavern talk to him and anyway, their smile probably wouldn’t be as bright.

“I’m from around here. Want me to show you around?” he asked, feeling bold.

“I’ve you’ve nothing else planned – gladly.”

As they stepped out the door, Yuuri saw the sky was already the colour of plums, with stars bright like pearls. Mongkut looked up next to him.

“It’s later than I thought! I guess you’ll have to pick out one especially pretty spot to show me before night falls.”

Yuuri thought for a moment.

“The beach… ah, unless you’re sick of the sea,” he remembered, just in time.

He knew a part of the beach where he could go even dressed as himself and barely be bothered because the stretch of land was usually deserted. There were surely more impressive places to show Mongkut, like the Old Temple and the Western Markets and the hill from which you could see the castle, but those were spots anyone new to Hasetsu would eventually see. They weren’t special.

“I still like the sea when I have ground under my feet,” Mongkut said, smiling.

For some reason, Yuuri was relieved and perhaps just a little proud to have chosen well. It shouldn’t really matter. He wouldn’t see Mongkut after this night.

“You were lying about your dancing,” Mongkut said, as they strolled side-by-side through a street lit by lanterns. People pushed past them, dragging carts and children and cows behind them. “You’re really good. Or was that me motivating you?”

Yuuri could feel colour creep into his cheeks and hoped Mongkut hadn’t seen. He gave a weak chuckle.

It was not a long way to the sea. Between skew-whiff houses, he could already see the water stretching to the horizon. Together with Mongkut, he clambered down a steep meadow and then turned west, where a stack of boulders blocked the beach west of the town from view. They squeezed through a narrow gap between the stones.

“The fishermen don’t come here because the ocean floor is treacherous. Lots of sharp stone spires and piles of rock that can ruin a boat,” Yuuri explained as he gestured towards the sea, which shimmered in a thousand shades of red and gold at the edge, where the sun was drowning. He knew this from Yuuko, a childhood friend and the mayor of the city.

“This is a good place to hide,” Mongkut said thoughtfully. “Interesting that you chose this!”

“I, uh... I guess I like being alone sometimes,” Yuuri admitted, absent-mindedly fingering the rough cotton of his borrowed kimono.

“Nothing wrong with that.”

Slowly, Mongkut approached the edge of the sea. Waves washed over his naked toes. He looked suddenly wistful. Yuuri watched him in silence.

“Thanks for showing me... though I’m not worried about not being alone enough right now.” His smile turned lopsided. “I hope everyone here is as nice as you are,” Mongkut added quietly. “I won’t be going back for a long while.”

“People here aren’t bad. I’m sure you’ll get used to them,” Yuuri said. Well, they were regular people, in truth. Some weren’t great, but others made up for it. Still, he had a sudden urge to comfort the young merchant.

Mongkut stared at the horizon for a moment longer as if he could look beyond, then quickly shook his head and smiled broadly at Yuuri.

“I’m sure I’ll have a good time,” he said, sounding like he might make it so if it refused to happen on its own.

Yuuri nodded his head. If Mongkut was as open and kind to others as he had been to him, he couldn’t see how he would have trouble making friends. Yuuri wished he was that charming.

Mongkut broke from his side and leaned down to pick something out of the sand. He stuck his hand in the water and then pulled back. In his still-dripping fingers, he held a cone-shaped sea shell the colour of amber.

“Here. I probably won’t see you again, but I like to make good memories last. Sometimes I wish I could paint them just as I remember them in the moment, but I’m not talented enough with a brush.” He grinned. “So when you look at this, you can think of us at the sea.”

“I will,” Yuuri promised solemnly. He doubted he could forget, really. “And... I’ll try to have a good time, too.”

Though Yuuri realised his comment must have sounded like it came from nowhere, Mongkut just smiled and squeezed his hand for a moment before he turned around and dashed off. Soon enough, he had vanished behind the boulders and when Yuuri followed, cone clenched in his hand, he was long gone, only his footsteps left in the sand.

-

“Are you ready?”

Yuuri straightened the hakama for the tenth time and glanced at his sister wearing an elaborate kimono, her hair adorned with beautifully wrought gold and pearls. Their parents were kneeling behind them on the tatami mats.

Was he ready? No, probably not, especially not after his short-lived escape and the meeting with the merchant from the Jewel City. As he had snuck back into the castle through a servant entrance and stripped off his clothes before he hid in bed, he could still see the smile on Mongkut’s face in his head. He wondered where he was, if he liked Hasetsu by daylight, if he felt homesick. He also knew he could never, ever afford to find out. Though not one to make connections quickly, Yuuri had felt how easy it would have been to build on something there. _Much_ too easy for a man about to be married.

“Yes,” he said, finally. He wasn’t going to get any more ready today.

Mari nodded at a servant girl, who flitted outside. For a moment, there was silence. Yuuri tried to keep breathing.

The door slid to the side and Yuuri’s mouth fell open. Meanwhile, opposite of him, Phichit Chulanont – Mongkut – stopped dead so abruptly that his guards almost ran into his back. He was beautifully dressed in the richly coloured traditional garbs of the Jewel City, his formerly shaggy hair brushed straight, his skin devoid of the dust of travel now. His wide, grey eyes were fixed on Yuuri.

“Ah,” began Minako, obviously trying to keep the ceremony going, even thought Phichit was still frozen on the doorstep. “We welcome to the court Prince Phichit Chulanont, husband-to-be of our divine majesty Yuuri Katsuki. May the gods give your union their blessing.”

“Oh... I do think fortune favours us,” Phichit said, finally smiling.

Once more, Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat.


End file.
